Foreign Tastes
by S'revan
Summary: He'd been here forever. He'd been imprisoned underground, been left alone, and been forgotten. But when a woman he used to know and her companion stumble across him, he has hopes of becoming truly free.
1. Found

Foreign Tastes

**Prologue**

------

He had no idea how long it had been. He knew that, technically, it had not been forever, but it seemed an appropriate answer, should anyone ever ask. No one would, of course, because no one had come after Rin died, but every now and then he liked to imagine. How long have you been here? Forever.

He didn't think he'd be able to speak more than that. If he'd been here forever, then it had been forever but sixty or so years since he'd spoken. Maybe his voice was gone from disuse?

No. He was youkai. His nature meant that as long as he did not neglect himself, he would remain healthy.

But wasn't that what he had done? Neglect himself. Sealed away underground for forever, there was little point to maintaining exercises that required food. He had none, so he did what he could to avoid being hungry. He'd perfected the art of meditation, slipping away from reality for what felt like moments, but were probably more like years. It must have been years. There were growths of rock that hadn't been there before, and the stream that ran through his 'chamber' had subtly changed its shape. The pool that had been created by his first attempts at escape was now smooth at the bottom, instead of jagged.

He wondered vaguely how long it had been since he last moved.

"Ah, shit." The voice was distant, and distorted, but there.

He sat up and looked in the direction of that voice so fast his entire torso, from nape to tail, seemed to explode in pain. His skin burned, his bones felt achey and empty, his muscles seemed knotted beyond repair. He recognized the feelings as extremes of regeneration and growing pains. Had he begun to waste away, then?

No matter. He knew that any position would be painful, so he kept his current one. Someone was near, and by the sound of the footsteps, coming nearer.

"Are you sure this is the way out?" A different voice, higher, definitely female. The words were hard to understand, but it made sense that language would change with the passage of time and formation of rock.

"No." It was the first voice. Closer now, he recognized it as also female, but deeper and thicker. It was like the difference between honey and water. He'd known males with higher voices than hers, before forever began.

"Maybe we should turn back."

No!

"You're the one who wanted to head in this direction. Now I'm curious: it's been a long time, but it looks like there used to be a path here. "

"If you say so... Ow!"

"Are you alright?"

"I scraped myself."

"Here." They stopped moving. Silence a moment, then a soft sort of sucking sound.

"You shouldn't do that," water-voice said. She sounded embarrassed.

"I couldn't just let it drip, could I? Come on."

They walked on in silence, and he kept expecting to see them the next moment, but it seemed both too long and too short a time before they turned the final corner, and saw him. Or rather, he saw them.

They were humans, one in the typical manner and wearing some sort of abbreviated kimono, and the other looking like a youkai and wearing something like what his half-brother's priestess had worn, only dark and sleeker. As his eyes adjusted to the bright light coming from the thing she held in her hand, he saw that her skin was very pale, her eyes as well, but with a gradiation, and her hair – a quick glance toward the source of the blood-smell confirmed it – much the same color as blood. The markings around her eyes and down her cheeks made him reconsider his conclusion of her humanity, though. But why would a youkai, one powerful enough to disguise itself as human, wish to do so? More than the language must have changed.

He thought they must have seen him, but after a moment of staring blankly, the red-haired one (the honey-voiced one) said, "Dead end," and turned away.

Though he felt he should despise himself for giving into weakness, he found himself working his mouth until he managed to speak. "Wait."

It sounded pitiful, but the – girl? woman? youkai? – honey-voiced one looked back over her shoulder in his direction. Slowly, she moved the bright-light-source, and the pool of light that had been resting at her feet moved around. Once it found him, the other one watched it as it traveled up him. Briefly, he was blinded, and then it flashed away, to outline the walls of his containment area, and then it disappeared, and the entire area became dimly lit, the bright-light-source now being held like a torch.

"Who are you?" the honeyed one asked. "And how did you get here?"

He ignored the first question. "I was sealed in here by monks for a variety of incomprehensible reasons."

"Such as?"

"I do not need to answer to you." It felt strange not using his own name, and mildly degrading, but he continued to withhold it.

One eyebrow jumped, but she smiled.

The other one moved to stand partially behind her companion. "Ne, let's go," she said.

"Not yet."

"But—"

"People are, by nature, social creatures. Solitary confinement is one of the worst forms of punishment possible."

"He said there were reasons," water reminded honey quietly.

"It's _kurueru ando anyushueru panishimento_. [1] I can never condone torture." She never looked away from him. "Especially when it attacks the psyche rather than the body."

Voice-like-water was silent.

"So," honey said, after a pause. "Talk."

"What?"

"Not you, him."

"I think he's one of the ones I told you about."

"He is present," he said, irritated.

"Exactly," honey said. "So talk."

"I am imprisoned; there is a barrier. What more is there to say?"

"Why?"

He scowled. "That is not for you to know."

She shrugged and turned away. "Fine. Let's go, Kagome."

"You said you cannot 'condone' my situation," he grated, "and yet you leave?"

"The punishment is not mine to inflict or repeal." She started walking.

He struggled, but after having company, the panic won. "Wait!"

She paused.

"Please don't leave me alone."

Water looked at him with something like sympathy. He couldn't tell for sure. It had never been directed at him before. "How long have you been here?"

"Forever."

Honey turned to face him again. "Was there," she asked quietly, "a little girl?"

"Yes," he said, and swallowed. "Rin." With some difficulty, he stood and stumbled to the stream, where he knelt and drank. His entire body was in pain now, but the water was such a relief he didn't' mind.

"Then I think I know why." Her gaze transferred to water-voice, Kagome. "It's like Beauty and the Beast."

"I don't know that story," Kagome said after a moment.

"Once there was a prince. He had everything he could want, and he was handsome beyond description, but he was cold, and his heart was dead. One night, during a storm, an old woman came desiring shelter. Repulsed by her ugliness, he turned her away, but she warned him that appearances were not everything. Again she asked shelter, offering a rose in return, and was again rebuffed. Angered, she revealed herself to be not an old woman after all, but a priestess, equal to him in both power and in beauty. She discarded his apology and, as punishment for his selfishness, transformed his exterior to match his interior, which made him truly hideous. The rose she enchanted as well, and if, by the time it died, he had not learned to love another better than himself, he would be locked in that form forever."

"I am not hideous," he said, affronted.

"No, that part is more like Sleeping Beauty, who can be woken only by true love's kiss. There is no time limit either."

"Hmph." He looked away, but winced when a tendon in his neck became misplaced. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked down, and studied the patterns dust and grime had made on his clothing.

After another wait that was both too long and too short, he heard her exhale. "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

He looked up.

"What?" Kagome said. "But he's—"

"Sesshoumaru. I know." Another sigh, and her shoulders relaxed into a less intimidating pose, as she turned to face the girl completely and gave her the bright-light-source. "It's been nearly four hundred and fifty years, Kagome. That's long enough."

"That long? How do you know?"

"Judging by what Kagome has told me of her time with Inuyasha, I would say that you were imprisoned sometime between 1547 and 1560 _eidi_ [2], by the Roman calendar. According to the same calendar, we are in the first century of our third millenium." [3]

"I see." That also explained in part how she knew who he was. But how did a human girl survive that long? This bore investigation. He put it aside, however, as honey-voice walked back towards him, straight for the barrier. "Stop. The barrier will harm you if you touch it."

She smiled mysteriously, and walked through the barrier.

"Ofuda, right?" she asked, studying one. After a moment, she reached out and placed her hand over it, obscuring the writing. When she lifted her hand, the writing was gone, and the now blank paper fell to the ground before disintegrating.

Sesshoumaru raised an eyebrow. "That's all it took?"

"You're not the right religion," she returned, and moved on to the next one.

The barrier remained in place until the last ofuda. Pausing before it, she of the red hair studied it as though she understood what it did. Eventually, instead of destroying it as she had the others, she pulled it off the wall. The barrier shuddered, and rushed inward, stopping just before touching him, as she moved around to face him.

"I cannot break it completely, I can only alter it," she said, holding eye contact until he dropped his head in a nod. Then she reached out with her free hand and gingerly moved aside his once-fine clothing, exposing his chest, and placed the final ofuda on it, over the bottom of his sternum. It was not painful. A few muttered words and a flash of sparkles, and the paper fell apart, leaving behind the writing, which settled into his skin like his markings. As she traced it with a finger, he felt it seem to come alive, and the barrier sank into him and seemed to disappear.

"What...?"

"You can touch only with gentleness, and you can harm only to protect. You must belong."

"Like Tessaiga," [4] Kagome said.

"Yes. Like Tessaiga." She stepped back.

Sesshoumaru pulled his clothing back into order, and wished he had something less dirty to wear. He was still bound, he could feel it, but it was... more acceptable. The girl Kagome knew the mechanics of his father's fang-sword better than he did, so if she said that the two enchantments were similar, he preferred it to being caged and alone. Forgotten.

Forever.

It seemed like forever was over now, though, which reminded him: "To whom am I indebted?"

"I'm Fuji."

"Fuji-no-kami?" He still didn't understand her comment about religion, but naturally a god would be able to do things youkai could not.

She laughed, a husky sound that reminded him of the condensed milk-and-honey treats he used to love, of his father's fur, and of distant thunder. "I haven't been called a goddess in ages! But I'll respond to Fujinigami if you like."

He bowed.

"By the way," Kagome said, "how do we get out?

---

[1] Cruel and unusual punishment. Since this takes place in Japan, I'm writing all foreign words in romanized katakana.

[2] Oda Nobunaga's first military experience and the start of his first major campaign, respectively. _Inuyasha_'s Nobunaga (the guy with the tiny monkey who falls off cliffs – he's near the beginning) mentions Oda as a fool, which means that he was of an age to do things, but not yet successful. _Eidi_ = AD.

[3] Yes we are. 1AD-1000AD = first mill. 1001-2000 = second mill. 2001-3000 = third mill.

[4] The little 'tsu' in Te[tsu]saiga simply denotes a doubled consonant, as in Sesshoumaru and words like 'yatta'. Thus: Tessaiga.

AN

Yes, I know, I really should finish "All But One", but it's stalled on me, and I felt the need to write. So this is what we get. Credit for inspiration (and I think I made it different enough, but let me know if you want it to go poof) goes to Mel & Christy. Yayness.


	2. Settled

Foreign Tastes

**One**

------

It took them a while to get out. It wasn't that they got lost, because Sesshoumaru was able to trace their scents (and Fuji's continued to confuse him, because while it was definitely human it was also definitely _not_), but that he was in too much pain to move quickly. Fuji had offered to carry him, and although she was nearly as tall as he was, he declined – politely – because although a god's whims must be indulged, respect must still be due them, and such an offer was probably more a wish to test than a wish to help. Since she had merely shrugged and continued on as before, he assumed that he had passed it.

So the pace remained slow. After a while, he could distinguish the scents more clearly, re-familiarized himself with Kagome's smell, picked out the hints of her magic in it, and noticed one other thing: that while Fuji had been leading Kagome, they had gone straight to him, but before that, when Kagome lead Fuji, they had been frequently lost and wandered around quite a bit. He cut out the meanders as much as possible, in the interests of being able to sit down again all the sooner.

At one point, Kagome stopped walking. As she still carried the bright-light-source, which they called a flash light (which made sense, in a way) Fuji stopped too, and Sesshoumaru, perforce, followed their example. He made her pay for it by leaning on her, though,

She didn't seem to notice. "What are we going to say when we get back?"

Fuji smiled, as though she had been anticipating the question. "Well, we can either tell a lot of bold-faced lies that will make Sesshoumaru seem like a total idiot, and us as well, if they were discovered to be lies, or we can avoid confrontation completely by taking advantage of the fact that we drove out by ourselves, separately from everyone else. I'm sure Sesshoumaru will be willing to lie down in the back seat, and as far as anyone knows, we will leave as we came."

"But... the car, the speed, the different clothes!"

"Sesshoumaru, when you are at your best, how fast can you travel?"

"How does one measure that?"

She stared a moment. "Ah, right. Let us say, then: if you were to travel at your top speed from Kyoto to Edo, how long would that take?"

He thought about the distance of those two cities, wondering why she chose them in particular. "Not long; maybe a count of 30 or 40 in measured speech."

She nodded. "We won't need to worry about speed. Clothes, as you see, have changed. I think I know what I can get you that will approximate what you wear now, without seeming out of place. Things don't fasten the same and may be a bit more... snug... in places," she said, glancing with meaning at his hips and shoulders. "You'll have to deal. As for cars, they are the product of science: the common human's answer to magic. They are noisy, smelly, and dangerous, but they can travel faster than you at times, and they don't involve much to operate beyond sitting down. Once you get used to them, they can almost be described as very strange carriages; in any case, they developed from them. You got that?"

"You mean: do I understand?"

"Yes."

"I do."

"Alright. Kagome didn't think about this, but I did. Once they reach maturity, humans often live separate from their family, sometimes together, sometimes alone. Since the invention of reliable birth control, sex is very common, and rarely means anything to either of the participants, but rape remains a crime. Killing _anyone_ is a crime. Women _are_ the equals of men. And," again, she glanced significantly at his hip "to carry a sword or any other weapon without the government's permission is a crime."

"I will not give up my swords."

"Then you cannot carry them."

He stared at her. Had Kagome told him this, he would have... done something unpleasant. Since it was Fuji, he could not. One did not attack gods. One did not disbelieve gods. His eyes dropped to the floor.

"They can be concealed," she reminded him gently. "The punishment for carrying concealed weapons is higher, because the crime is not only of carrying them but of seeking to escape discovery – yes, I know, it doesn't make much sense, but that's the way it is. However, since very few humans believe in magic, and even fewer have any control over it..."

"I do not at this time have the strength to do that."

"Then I will carry them for you."

He felt Kagome shift, but stopped her by standing upright and untying his sash, handing it and his swords to her. "Tokijin is—"

"I know." She took them and bound them around with the sash, then leaned them against her shoulder. "Shall we go on?"

The overall pain was beginning to lessen, though that meant he was becoming increasingly aware of his hunger. He nodded, and returned his attention to the trail.

"Fuji," he heard Kagome say quietly, after a little while longer of following their old steps in silence, "where will he stay?"

"With me."

"Will you be okay?"

"I will."

They did not speak again until they reached the entrance.

Sesshoumaru was glad to lie down in the back of the car, to sleep as best he could and try to block out the hunger pains. He firmly ignored the sounds around him, the weird pull of the car, and only roused when he felt a deliberate touch on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked up at Fuji.

"Tadaima," she said. [1]

"Tadaima," he repeated.

Her smile softened a fraction. "Okaeri."

She stood up and helped him extract himself from the car, then closed the door after him and pressed a button on a little black thing she held. Shouldering his swords again, she led him up a set of steps attached somehow to a cliff, then up some more steps to a small standing space, where she got out something metal and inserted it into a small hole in what looked like the doors he'd seen on the occasional foreign ship. A twist, a push, and the door gave way. She went inside and stepped up again, leaving behind her shoes. He followed.

"Will the humans attempt to charge you with the crime of carrying weapons?" he asked.

"They might try, but they will not succeed."

Accepting that, he looked around a room that seemed to be sharply divided between Japanese and.. other. On one side was a table and several cushions, a side table containing scrolls, a few books, and a writing set. The walls were white, the floor was tatami, an elaborate kimono, a painted silk screen, and a wall-hanging in the Chinese calligraphic style were the only decorations. On the other side were seats and a table on stilts, a high counter built against the wall, and an indentation into the other wall, with a grate in front of it. There was also something that looked like cushions on stilts, with a low back, and padded and covered with some fuzzy fabric. A branch of cherry blossoms, a stand of bamboo, and a very haughty, if small, black cat had been somehow been captured behind frames and hung above the counter. It made him uncomfortable.

Fuji moved across the room, still carrying his swords, opened a hidden door next to the indentation in the wall, and pulled out an elaborate stand and three more blades. These she carried back to the Japanese side of the room. She placed the stand next to the screen, put her three blades on the front, lower part of the stand, his two on the bottom sections of the higher, back part, and draped his sash across the very top. The sight was mostly pleasing, but she shook her head after a moment, disappeared through a sliding door, and returned with a white sash, embroidered with bamboo and cherry blossoms, and replaced his sash with it.

"This will be washed," she said, "and I will put it aside with your other clothing. Until we get something that stands out less, I have a few yukata that should fit. Through here, please."

Once he had changed, he returned to find her sitting on one of the elevated seats, reading a book, but when she saw him, she smiled, got up, and moved to the lower table. "Douzo."

"Thank you." He sat.

"You do not like the Western side?"

"That is not Western," he said firmly. "It is barbaric." Remembering himself, he started to apologize, but she waved it off.

"These days it is called Western. Those barbarians succeeded in opening trade with Japan some 250 years ago, and in 1945 _eidi_ successfully invaded and forced a new government." She looked at him through her lashes. "It may or may not please you to know that the emperor is no longer divine."

His eyebrows drew together. "How did they manage that?"

"They blew up Hiroshima and Nagasaki," she said, colorlessly. "The residue continues to affect those who live there today."

"Barbaric!"

"Oh! Well, they were trying to end a war that spanned the entire world, and they were attacked first. They say, too, that the total death count would have been much higher if they had not done it." She shrugged.

A girl in strange clothing that he identified as possibly having origins in the Chinese entered through the sliding door Fuji had pulled the white sash from, and presented the tea tray to Fuji. When she thanked her, the girl blushed, bowed, and retreated.

He watched as she poured the tea, noting that this ceremony, at least, had not changed much. He accepted the cup with both hands and a bow, and waited for her to sip first, noting with puzzlement that the drink in hers was cloudy.

She noticed his gaze and smiled. "I like it so," she said, and drank.

Tea became dinner as she instructed him in what had happened since he was sealed, and as night came on, the lights on the Western side of the room and the fire in what he now learned was the fire place drew them to the place before it, seating themselves on the rug with cushions that they brought with them. After a while, she saw him to his room and returned to the main room. He lay in the darkness that was not really dark at all after his forever underground, letting the unfamiliar noises keep him awake as he went over what he had been told. Finally, he heard a click, and the darkness became darker; he heard footsteps, the slide of a door, rusting fabric, and a sound similar to rain. He fell asleep before it stopped.

---

[1] There are certain everyday ritual phrases that don't really have a translation in English. I am leaving them in Japanese, but I will give the situation/approximate translation for them if I'm requested to do so.

AN

A bit short, but this seemed like a good ending, and I didn't want to bore everyone by going over things we've already learned more than I have to. Once everything stops being new to Sesshoumaru, we can start moving at a faster pace, and things should get more interesting.


	3. Learned

**Foreign Tastes**

Two

------

Sesshoumaru woke to the same sound that he fell asleep to. After putting on his clothing with practiced ease that nonetheless left him uncomfortable because of its unusual simplicity – not to mention that it had been a long time since he clothed himself with any regularity – he investigated it, suspicious about falling water within doors that was neither like rain nor like a stream or a waterfall.

He tracked it to the bathing room, and, upon entering, stared numbly at his host washing under what he now recognized as a shower. He wondered if she would be upset, and curse him.

"Please close the door," she said. "You're letting cold air in."

He closed the door.

After a while, she turned around and faced him, the water running through her hair and darkening it without making it lose its brightness. "Do you have to wash yourself often?" she asked.

"It is sometimes a pleasant sensation," he said. "I usually prefer – preferred to render myself clean without letting down my guard."

Fuji nodded, closed her eyes, and tilted her head back to get the hair at the front of her forehead. After a moment, she turned sideways and reached for a bottle of something, pouring a little out into her hand before working it into her hair. "They say," she said, "that cleanliness is close to godliness."

His brows furrowed.

"But then they also say that this stuff is unscented."

He snorted, relaxing. "Human idiots."

"Mmmhmm." Her head now a mass of tiny bubbles, she stepped back into the spray of water and washed it out. One eye opened very slightly to watch him.

He looked back, then dropped his gaze, self-conscious.

"You should probably wash as well."

"I am not sure I wish to."

"Of course not. Something like this is a—" she checked a moment, but continued almost apologetically, "a Western thing."

Sesshoumaru tensed momentarily, but sighed and deliberately relaxed. His lands were, admittedly, part of a single island, and could not hope to hold their old title against two continents – although, he thought mulishly, his had been first.

A soft but very recognizable chuckle – hers – made him look up again, but he looked down again almost immediately. Best not to take any chances.

"Come on," she said. "There's enough room."

And so he learned how to use a shower.

When they had finished and redressed themselves in fresh clothing, she frowned momentarily and gave him socks, sandals, and a jacket. "We will be getting you modern clothing today. You have a choice: you can go with civilian clothing, or with military."

"I have always been a warrior."

"Right."

She took him to an army surplus store, told him to choose a color scheme, and after holding a few pairs or pants up to him and looking measuringly back and forth, chose several and sent him to find a pair of boots that would fit. When he had done so, he found the pants folded neatly by the counter, and added the boots to the pile before stalking around the room in inspection.

The sales clerk watched him nervously, and suggested that he might want a hair tie.

Sesshoumaru looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and proceeded to ignore him.

Fuji came back and selected a leather jacket and a woolen coat from the racks for him, then paid for it all and had him carry it back out to her car. He found another two bags in the back seat and settled dubiously beside them, unwilling to risk her wrath by asking.

"I got you a roll of thong, if you want to tie up your hair," she said suddenly. "In the little one."

Taking that as a suggestion, he looked through the bag – almost delicately, as though it might try to bite him – until he found the roll, measured out a length, and cut it with a nail before gathering his hair at the top of the back of his head and tying it off. It made him feel like his father, somehow, but that made him angry and he tossed his head to shake it off. His hair flared in an arc that pleased him, but he decided not to try it again just yet when he saw Fuji frown a little in the tiny front mirror.

He frowned himself as he put together a grammatical form he hadn't used since his father's death, repeating his question several times over to make sure it would come out evenly, and not like some idiot who was still learning the language. As he did so, he watched until she looked less distracted, then spoke: "Fujinigami."

"Yes?" She glanced at him via the mirror, then looked back at the road.

"May this one humbly ask why you have graciously condescended to aid one such as myself?"

"Please don't talk like that," she said. "I'm helping you because I want to."

"Surely it would only be proper for this one to humbly render due respect—"

"Aagh, stop it," she said, and he shut his mouth in the middle of a verb he had nearly started stumbling over. "My _keigo _(1) is a little rusty since it's been so long since people used it regularly with me in person. Besides, conversation is much more interesting when you can speak more quickly, don't you think? I'd prefer it if you used plain form." (2)

"Truly?"

"Yes."

"I'm not very used to that," he admitted.

"Yes, I know. You were an arrogant bastard in the old days, weren't you?" She glanced at him in the mirror again, smiling. "Just use the same form I do. Alright?"

"Alright. May I ask why?"

"I have an image to maintain," she said. "If everyone were to be ultra-polite to me for no apparent reason, people might get suspicious."

"You do not wish them to know…?"

"They'd be more likely to try and lock me up than to believe it. In things like this, it is often less troublesome to let them feel superior and safe."

"You do not need them to worship you? Forgive me."

"Fuji is one of the most famous mountains in the world," Fuji said with simple pride. "That is good enough for me."

"I see," Sesshoumaru said, and thought he did.

When they returned to Fuji's house, she watched him figure out the modern clothes, frequently grinning but never outright laughing, and stepping in to help whenever he started to get frustrated. There was a precarious moment when she zipped his fly for him (since he hadn't known he needed to) but he managed to keep from flinching or attacking, and she didn't mention anything so he assumed he did well. The rest he got fairly well on his own, though it took some staring. Then she led him to a mirror.

"I do not look like myself," he said.

"No," she said cheerfully.

"It will take some time to get used to these new clothes."

"Of course. In the mean time, take those boots back off, alright? And come have some lunch."

He did so, sitting opposite from her when she permitted him to do so, folding easily into a cross-legged position. He had nothing to do with his arms, so after a few intense moments when he was uncomfortably aware that he looked ridiculous, Fuji took pity on him and folded her arms across her chest, which he copied. She studied him for a moment, then shook her head.

"You look like a sulky teenager. Try putting your hands on your knees and leaning forward a little."

He did so, and this time she nodded. The same girl from before entered at that moment with bowls of miso and rice, and a platter of some kind of hot, dark brown meat with vegetables he didn't at first recognize. He regarded it uncertainly.

"Try it," Fuji suggested.

He did so, and found it to be tough and strongly flavored, but acceptable. "Forgive my impertinence in asking, but… Why do you choose to eat as a human?"

"I'm living as a human," she said, looking surprised.

"Yes, but…" Sesshoumaru said. "You aren't."

"That depends on who you ask. And, as I've said before, humans can get kind of twitchy if you try and convince them there's a better race than theirs out there. I don't _need_ people to know, so it's easier to just go along with it. The same goes for you, by the way," she added suddenly.

"Me?"

"Uh huh. I think you'll find that people either just won't see anything odd about you, or they'll find explanations they call logical."

"Such as?"

"Tattoos. Contacts. Bleach. Or you might be a foreigner, so look out for prejudice."

"This—"

"Of course, they're wrong, but there are over six billion of them these days. And since you're not allowed to just attack whoever offends you, I'd recommend you get used to living as a human too."

"I see," Sesshoumaru said, and subsisted back into his meal.

"Are you not hungry?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Are you not hungry? You're not eating much."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. Is it too spicy? Too cooked?"

"… A little," he admitted.

"Alright! In which case, leave this to me." She snagged the platter. "Rin-chan?"

The girl opened the door and knelt just outside it. "Yes?"

"Quickly make something less spicy and more raw, please."

"Yes." She closed the door.

"The girl's name is Rin?"

"Mmmhmm, meaning 'plum,' of course. Her parents are Chinese."

"Rin," Sesshoumaru said, and stared after her for a moment. Then he finished his miso, and the meal went on.

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(1) _keigo_ – the super-polite form of speech, these days usually reserved for use towards a customer or a superior in business, or for letters and conversations over the phone. Roughly translated into English, it sounds a lot like how Sesshoumaru was talking for a while there.

(2) plain form – used in compound clauses, a sort of neutral form unless it's the only form used, in which case it either indicates superiority or intimacy. It's fast and informal, but not actually rude unless misused.

AN

I'd like to remind us (since it's been so long) that Sesshoumaru thinks that Fuji is a god (and will continue to refer to her as Fujinigami) because her scent, appearance, voice, actions, and words all seem to corroborate this belief. She is, by the way, trying not to shatter his illusions, if illusions they be.  
If anyone wants to tell me what she is, of course, then you're more than welcome to do so.


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